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XLIV - Psoriasis Life Lessons

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Let's do some more time travelling today Reader.

Back to 13/14 year old me one Saturday in summer.

We were on the way into town, but needed to drop my sister off for her shift first.

My hair was longer than normal, and I remember feeling gruffly.

When we dropped of my sister, my mum who also worked at the same place needed to head in for 5 minutes, so I waited in the car.

I would soon be working at the same place, and do a stint of around six long summers when I turned 16.

But my pot wash graduation to hotplate can come another day.

So, as a restless young teenager in a car, I was finding whatever I could to pass some time.

And then I scratched the back of my head.
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​*OWW*

I jerked my hand back, and slowly went to touch it.

*Ahh...*

It was stinging, sore.

I didn't know what it was.

But then I saw the blood on my fingers.

I was bleeding?

I touched it again.

The soreness was now all I could think about it.

The need to scratch the itch, was all that was there.

What... was wrong with me?

When my mum returned, I didn't tell her.

I was confused as to why blood was coming out the back of my head.

And that was the day the need to itch would become my curse.

In the following days, I noticed the additional need to scratch my elbows.

And it was much easier to see my elbows than the back of my head.

It was scabby like... pulling off my skin in a way.

And then it would bleed more.

I spoke to my mum.

And we headed to the first doctors trip of many.

I was diagnoses with Psoriasis.

To which I found out there was no cure.

Sigh..

I had this bitch for life.

Nevertheless, the next few years it was manageable.

Until one day... it exploded.

I went for a trim at the barbers. I was 19 at this point.

"Sorry... I'm causing quite a mess" the barber said.

I looked at him puzzled. "It looks fine to me".

"No, the back of your head... there's blood everywhere"

"Oh, don't worry, it's psoriasis. It happens from time to time"

But his worry didn't go away.

He pulled out the mirror.

Well shit, he wasn't exaggerating.

Now I could see it, it wasn't hair on the back of my neck, it was blood pouring down.

Yes, it was pouring down.

It could have passed for a scene out of a horror film.

I felt bad for the barber. It wasn't his fault, but you could see like he felt he caused it.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Wipe it away as best as you can, finish the rest of the trim".

I gave a good tip, the trim was high quality, and it wasn't his fault.

My confidence hit a low point then.

It looked terrible.

Coinciding with a rough period of my life, I started wearing a hood up and caps 24/7 to cover it as much as possible.

It was painful, I would wake up with blood on my pillow from scratching in the night, dead skin would continually drop off.

The doctors didn't have the answer.

I went through every single cream possible.

None worked, not even to mask my symptoms.

Thankfully, my elbows were holding out, but the back of my head was a mess.

I seemed to go through periods of flare ups, and while I tried to connect the dots, it was mostly random.

I concluded it needed as much air as possible, and I needed to touch it as little as possible.

"T-Gel" was my only half friend, as that seemed to reduce the symptoms at there most extreme, but no creams worked.

So, I just have to live with it.

A clean diet and fasting has helped in previous years, but oh what I would do to get rid of it.

Sometimes, I just want to rip the back of my head off.

But I can't.

I have to leave it.

No matter how much I want to scratch it.

I can't touch it.

It'll only get worse.

And it's funny, because it taught me one of the best life lessons I have ever known.

Delayed gratification.

The instant gratification of the scratch felt good, but seconds later I would be filled with regret from blood on my fingers, sharp pains on my head, and the knowledge as soon as it "healed", the same sensation would be back.

But if I left it, I would forget about it, even for just a few hours.

And get on with my life.

A skill I applied to several areas of my life...

Replace with what you want in the moment, for what the future you wants.

An invaluable lesson.

I would like to end with how I have found a miracle cure, but I haven't.

I can manage it a lot better these days, but flare ups are out of my control.

Three weeks ago, I headed to a farmers market.

One stall caught my attention.

"Combat Psoriasis" was on one of the many posters.

A host of skin balms and oils.

A gentleman and his daughter were there, and it turned out he owned the business.

After a good conversation, I was convinced enough to give this "Shea Life - 100% Hemp Butter Balm" a go.

So far it's probably the best thing I have tried.

It's no cure, but even my mum has said "Your head is looking better!"

I'll continue slapping this on, and in addition to that, it's given me another reason not to scratch the itch.

Because my fingers will be covered in oil.

While annoying, its a hell of a lot better than dead skin and blood.

So any slight touch, I'll snap my hand away, and find a tissue to remove the oil.

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It's been a 15 year fight.

And it's one I'll continue to fight Reader.

I sense the tides are turning.